Inside
by missingmontyoum
Summary: Murder. Such a horrible word. Such a horrible action. That was a least in the opinion of an ordinary young adult, whom of which happened to be named Charlie Bucket. Whim also was the heir of the famous Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory. It now belonged to him. Charlie, however finds is progenitor's death suspicious, and investigates. He runs into more than a couple of familiar faces.
1. Chapter 1

It wasn't raining. Despite popular belief, the heavens don't decide to depress the fuck out of the pathetic humans whenever one dies, with their tears of fake sadness. Every cheesy film ever produced showcased that when someone dies, the only way you can tell is when it's raining. Rain wasn't bad. At least not in his opinion.

"It feels like it should be raining,"he muttered under his breath. Heck, it should be dropping gallons from the sky. That was at least how comically down he had felt. There was no denying it. He was sad. And **he** was dead.

Charlie Bucket stood in front of the gray stone protruding from the ground. He looked down in both depressing anger and angering depression. It has been a week. A week without him by his side, constantly being the ridiculous person he was. A week without a smiling. It began to annoy him.

He ran a hand through his chocolate brown hair. Yeah, that would be a good way to describe it. Like chocolate.

"Good job", Charlie grumbled once more. "Now you've been reduced to getting upset over anything that reminds you of him." **His** chocolate brown hair. **His** incredible creativity when it came to anything to do with chocolate. **Him**.

Willy Wonka died in a freak accident that had occurred in the factory. On the exact day 15 years ago, the Charlie had first visited the successful business of Wonka's. Charlie remembered it as if it were yesterday. Meeting him was one thing, but inheriting the entire chocolate empire was an idea from a different planet. Yet, somehow, here he was with all of this money, with all of this success, with all this...loneliness.

Charlie dropped the flowers he had brought. Sugar petals, he called them. It might have attracted bugs and small animals if the sugar used to make the beautiful flowers contained hadn't contained a strong smelling pesticide. What a clever idea! He remembered the exclamation **he** made when he first received the idea. Charlie you're a genius! **He** said.

Tears dotted the lids of his pickle green eyes. Charlie moved a hand to wipe them away. He refused to cry again. He used the other hand to grasp his aching heart. If it wasn't for **him** , he would either be on the streets begging for food once again or dead. Though right now, Charlie preferred the latter. He knew it, Death had added Charlie's name the list.

Through his tears he had managed an empty smile. He's rambling. He decided long ago. This wasn't an accident. He decided to find who was responsible. He continued smiling, even managing a chuckle. He decided to make them pay in every way imaginable. That chuckle turned into a laugh.

He laughed as the sun had set and storm clouds gathered.

He laughed as the first drop of rain ker-plunked on his messy, chocolate brown hair.


	2. Chapter 2

Air whooshed past his ears, well, the sound did anyways. Charlie sat, staring out the window of the airplane he was currently travelling on. Charlie didn't necessarily like air travel but this was important. He sucked in the cool air that was blasting from the units all over the mode of transportation, only to exhale all of it the next second.

To be honest, Charlie was scared of heights.

The man looked down at his shaking hands, and continued to take in deep breaths. He averted his gaze from the window in order to calm his nerves. He was here for a reason. He was here for Wonka.

He had done some research on his _suspects_ and he found each and every one of them. Even the ones that didn't want to be found.

His first suspect's name was Mike Tevee. Currently living in Denver, Colorado, he found himself in a successful life in the NBA. He is happily married, and is rolling in the millions.

Charlie racked his brain for his last memories of the bratty boy on the Wonka Tour. The spiked, brown hair and permanent scowl came back to him. Charlie forced a small smile upon himself when he remembered his demise. The kid couldn't resist the chance to be 'on TV', and so he did something stupid and ended up an extra-large piece of paper, shaped as a person. Charlie would be lying is he said he didn't enjoy seeing the over-spoiled boy suffer the consequences of his actions. He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy seeing them all suffer their consequences.

Yet, he could understand, why Mr. Tevee would seek revenge. His revenge is what he had searched for he was about to get it. Revenge, along with a .46 bullet to the chest.

Charlie patted the $980 dollars in his pocket. On this side of the Americas, you could buy guns by the dozens. But he only needed one.

When Charlie had finally arrived in Denver, he was on time. He had planned to arrive at 5:32, so he could then hail a taxi and travel to the Denver Basket Ball Arena and be there by 6:00.

The tall, chocolate brown haired male pushed open the door to the court. The sound of sneakers squeaking, the dull thud of a bouncing ball, and the vicious cheers of the crowd greeted his ears. He wasn't familiar with the sounds, nor the landscape. The harsh tones of the player's uniforms contrasted with the lighter colors around them; however, it didn't make it any easier to comprehend.

Charlie looked down at his ticket number and found his seat; a blank expression of indifference fitted his face. In his mind, thoughts were zooming, thoughts of revenge, blood, and justice. His heart was racing and he could feel his blood pumping through his aching head. After this, it will all be over, he told himself.

As the basketball game continued on in the background, Charlie retreated to his own thoughts. He wasn't completely sure that it was really Mike who committed the murder but, the feeling in Charlie's gut told him that it was incredibly likely.

The shrill blowing of the _Game over_ whistle brought the heir out of LaLa Land and back to reality. The real reality. Charlie spotted his target.

After about half of an hour, the crowd dissipated, and Charlie made his way towards Mike Tevee.

The bratty boy had developed into a man quite nicely. His dark brown hair was a little over grown, bits and pieces of it falling into his face. His tan complexion complemented his blue and white uniform, as well as his dark eyes. To put it simply, he was tall, dark, and handsome.

His wife must be very lucky, Charlie thought to himself.

Just as Charlie was about to grab the man's attention two, stereotypically burley guards stood between him and his justice. Charlie emitted a low growl and made up a cover. His frown soon transformed into an excited smile.

"I'm a huge fan!" He cried. "Please, I waited for everyone to leave, just to get his autograph!"

A chuckle erupted out between the human walls.

"It's okay Roger, Damian; you two can go start the car. I'll only be a minute." A surprisingly friendly voice assured.

The two stepped away, one of them giving Charlie a suspicious look. Charlie was then able to get a closer look at his possible victim. The first thing he saw on his was the brightest smile he had seen in a long time. The smile reached his eyes which twinkled with mirth. The tall man reached out his muscled arm with a pen.

"Where do you want it?" Mike asked.

Charlie dug out a spare piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to him.

"With love from Michael Tevee, to..?"

"Charlie Bucket" The said man firmly told the latter.

Mike Tevee's eyes widened. His eyes then glinted in recognition, as his smile grew even wider. His then reached out his long arms and grabbed the smaller man and enveloped him into a hug. Charlie was incredibly uncomfortable. The basketball superstar laughed heartily.

"Charlie Bucket! The C Man! The new Mr. Wonka!"

Charlie winced at that last one, yet he allowed himself to be thrown around by this much larger, much thinner man.

"Oh! Wait till my wife sees you! She'll be just as excited as I am!" Mike crowed.

Charlie dusted himself off, and wiped his sweat off his brow. His ever vacant frown remained, as the 4th golden ticket winner called out for his other.

"…"

".."

The star basketball turned back to his acquaintance and flashed the same goofy grin.

"Just wait till you see her, Charlie! She will love seeing you again!"

Again, Charlie thought a little confused. Mike noticed his confused look and quickly cleared it up.

"Well you see," Mike sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "We met during the tour. We hung out for a bit and we decided that our feelings were mutual." A blushed that soon reached from the nape of his neck to the ends of his ears justified this statement.

Charlie pulled a hand of to his chin and stroked it thoughtfully. The research he had done didn't suggest a marriage to either one of the girls. Either this was a lie to do something with an alibi or his research materials were crap. Yeah, probably that last one, Charlie thought to himself. You can never really trust the internet.

"…"

Charlie and Mike turned at the sound of the voice. Charlie's jaw, no longer than he had laid eyes upon Mrs. Tevee, dropped.

Before him was a man. Augustus Gloop to be exact.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank You, readers! It means the world to me to know that a least a couple of people like my story! Yeah, it is getting a bit on the dark side, but I got plans for it. To respond to some of your concerns, I believe that Charlie has learned to become a humanity hater, meaning suffering comes as entertainment to him. It was just supposed to be filler I swear! This chapter is just kind of boring interrogation stuff, but it has gay stuff! Yay! Next chapter you guys will get to see Veruca, aka Bitch-Chan (nicknamed by Tatum Monk ;D). Happy Reading!**

Charlie stared in amazement at the grown man, well...woman. You see, the 1st golden ticket winner was now a cross dresser.

Although Augustus had lost his chubbiness, he kept his stout figure. He was pretty short, about 5"5. The boy's place complexion was erased by the new tan, reminding Charlie of an orange. However, freckles still were scattered across his face. On one side of his head, red hair faded to a dark brown fell right under the bottoms of his pierced ear. The other side of his head was completely shaved.

He was sporting a low cut top, showcasing his voluptuously fake tits. The collar was covered in faux fur, much like the jacket Charlie was currently wearing.

"Guten Tag mein friend, Charles, "a falsetto voice erupted from the male/female.

Charlie snapped out of his analyzation and put on the same fake smile he wore for the last previous minutes.

"Augustus, it's so nice to see you again." Charlie extended his right hand to shake. When Charlie's hand was greeted with emptiness, Charlie looked up. The married couple looked startled. "What is it?" In his head, he was preparing to run. He began to think that the two gays saw through his plastic smile. Charlie's conscience continued to bite at him until Mike cleared his throat.

"Well…um…Most people," Mike looked to his other, "don't react as well. They believe that my sexuality should affect my participation in my field. I'm not even going to mention my wife's hobby." Mike glanced again to Augustus, who was now twiddling his fingers, nervously.

Charlie took an inward sigh of relief. Your cover is safe, bait them a bit more then move on to questioning, he reviewed. He moved his hand up to the back of his neck and laughed half-heartedly.

"People can be so stupid sometimes." He said with melancholy. "I'm happy for you two."

Augustus squealed and he ran up and hugged Charlie. Charlie grunted in both surprise and discomfort. He didn't like this physical contact and he couldn't help as a surge of nausea rose up his throat. It was strange, hugging Mike was okay. Why was it this contact that was disgusting? A shiver of disgust vibrated. Then again, Charlie hasn't had any physical contact with a woman (even a fake one) in over 15 years. Eventually, Augustus let go of the heir before he could be sick all over the gym floor.

"Woah, Charlie, are you trying to steal my girl?" Mike joked, patting Charlie on the back, which was cracked out of place by Augustus's hug. Charlie sent him a condescending look. Now it was time to get down to business.

"Not exactly, but what I would like to steal are a few questions from you two."

Mike placed his hands behind his head and started to sway on his feet. His handsome face was contorted with thought.

"Well Gus and I have to get moving in about half an' hour, we have a game in Los Angeles and Gus is trying out to be a cheerleader."

As if proving his point, Gloop did a cartwheel and performed various arm movements then screamed 'Go Denver!'

"It won't take that long," Charlie clarified. "Only five to six minutes." The heir thought with suspicion that the two were going exactly to the same place as he, maybe they are guilty. Making sure that it didn't just apply to Mike, now that he knew who his spouse was.

The questioning process consisted of the information concerning Wonka's death and Charlie struggled to consider them both witnesses and suspects. However, he pulled through.

"Do any of you know how Mr. Wonka died exactly?" Charlie quizzed recording the question in his notebook. Without a notebook, Charlie would've felt very unofficial.

Augustus ahemed. "It said in the newspaper that he fell from a great height." The he/she inquired.

Charlie wrote a small note, _Maryland newspaper somehow reaches Denver?_

Mike chipped in.

"Oh! That was right, while we were in Maryland for that Denver vs. Maryland team game, we decided to go sightseeing and we found that newspaper by that old candy store! It said that Wonka had perished in a freak accident. Fell from that waterfall of his."

Charlie raised his left eyebrow in skepticism. "You remember it?" he asked suspiciously while writing down his next clue. _Suspects M and A were in area during time of murder and know the details of HIS death._

Augustus nodded fervently, his turquoise eyes widening. Then again how could he forget, he was swimming (more like drowning) right next to it.

Charlie shifted his gaze from Augustus and fell onto Mike.

"At what time exactly was your game?" Charlie asked, he could feel himself get closer to the confession. They would beg for him to spare them, Charlie would pretend that he would and they would exit out of the gym. Charlie would raise his gun and shoot them in a dark alley way.

Mike played with the hairs on his chin in thought. "Well, let's see…it was about 6:00 when we arrived and the game started at seven and lasted till like 9:30. And it was Friday, the…um…the 21st. We found that newspaper two days later." Charlie's blood turned cold.

The murder took place (the exact time was produced via autopsy) at 8:13 on Friday the 21st. There goes his lead, he thinks, closing his notebook. Charlie's depressed state replaced his vengeful one, now he most definitely had to travel to Los Angeles to see, her.

"Thanks for your time you guys," Charlie mumbled, beginning to get up. I'll have to get on another plane, he thought, sadly patting his wallet containing another plane ticket to the 'City of Angels'.

Mike slumped forward and put a hand on Charlie's knee. Charlie made a sound of discomfort, but Mike didn't move it.

"You know if you need anything, Gus and I will always be one call away. Maybe we could get together for drinks sometime." Mike proposed.

"S-sorry, but I have some other business to take care of…"Charlie trailed off, removing Mike's hand from his leg.

The married couple watched Charlie exit the gym, with shoulders slumped and steps heavy.

Charlie walked out in the cold. He popped his collar and shoved his hands in his pockets. The owner of Willy Wonka's chocolate factory liked this particular jacket. It had a fur collar and shiny, black, leather sleeves. It reminded him of home. With only street lights to illuminate his path, Charlie headed towards the Denver, Colorado airport.

Before he even got on the plane, he began analyzing his next suspect. Veruca Salt.


	4. Chapter 4

Charlie looked up at the ginormous building. This is where the address read was the company party. He sighed and thought _might as well get it done and over with. If not her then he had one last suspect._ He swiftly moved into the gray building with huge, clear windows. He passed by an empty reception desk. An open computer screen with an unfinished game of minesweepers and 3 schedule documents to hide the real reason the receptionist is always on the computer. The power walked his way through boring cream tiles with boring gray walls with boring ugly paintings on them and reached the elevator. He once again analyzed his current 'murderer'.

Veruca Salt, post-factory, and her family's business empire had fallen. There was a period of time where she was living in an only 22 bedroom house. That was then where copyright would've come in handy as the innovative Salt Garbage Disposal Advice became the greatest thing since the microwave. So now the brat was living luxury even though he believed she didn't deserve a single bit of it.

Charlie watched the numbers on the elevator creep by, while he proposed further. She could've most definitely killed him, maybe even payed to kill him. How could he look into that theory? Accessing personal financial records is extremely difficult if you are not the person in question.

Charlie walked out of the elevator, and opened up his 'fun-sized' notebook to check the room number. R125. He grinned slightly at the sight of his messy handwriting, it seemed so important three days ago. But now, time snailed by as he continued his personal investigation. The police didn't give crap, since when did they ever give a crap when it came to the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory

There it was. The room in the plain font and plain black color. He heard faint dance music, the sound of glass clinking, and women's laughter. Charlie took a deep breath once again before he pushed open the door. Flashing, multi-colored lights assaulted his brain. He laid out the room.

There was a circular-shaped bar sitting dead center in the room, chairs and table making another perfect circle around it. Everywhere else was packed full of scantily dressed men and women, moving their able bodies to the beat. Charlie took a seat at the bar; the bartender pliantly ignored him, for that Charlie was glad.

The music hurt his ears, and years of isolation away from such crowds and loudness didn't improve his social skills. Someone sat next to him. A northern accent (somehow) cut through the music.

"Why aren't you out there dancing? Everyone else is!"

Charlie turned to the owner of the voice. She was a woman. Her chestnut brown hair with dark brown highlights drooped in long curls, they swayed when she moved. Her make-up overdone and her sleeveless, designer. Charlie assumed.

"Veruca Salt?"

"Yes, who else would I be?" She didn't seem surprised, she didn't recognize him.

He got right to the point, this entire situation was annoying and he didn't want to stay here longer than he had too.

"You mind telling me where you were on Friday the 21st at about 8:15?"

She scoffed. "What are you, some sort of police officer?"

"More like a private investigator, or your personal hell."

"Who are you?" Veruca began to get up; she clearly was not reacting well to the interrogation.

"Charlie Bucket." She stopped and slowly looked over her bony shoulder. Her eyes narrowed. An ugly expression of anger and disgust greeted her average features.

"The Jesus kid." The woman had turned completely around and the flashing lights around him to get a millisecond clear look at her.

She was rather plain looking, maybe beautiful in the light of her fortune. But otherwise, she is doomed to her shit-brown hair and eyes. Her body certainly hadn't grown into that of a woman; however slight hips and bust suggested her woman hood.

She placed a hand on her hip and turned up her nose.

"What are you doing here?" Veruca asked disgust clear in her words.

"You know very well what I'm doing here." Charlie replied standing up as well.

Veruca took off walking in another direction, Charlie followed her. He followed the twists and turns and the annoying flashing lights. Finally he stepped into a quiet room where the 2nd golden ticket winner had already taken a seat and was pouring herself a glass of wine.

"The old bastard finally croaked, huh? It was bound to happen considering how many safety regulations that factory has broken." She took a drink of her wine. "Hallelujah, the angels sing," she added with a hint of a drunken giggle.

Charlie lost his temper.

"Stop acting like it was a total accident! Do you not even have a little respect for the dead or is that beneath you?" Charlie slammed his fist down of the table in front of the brat he was lecturing. "I know you or the other brats did something? Tell me!"

Veruca's eyes dilated as she looked up at him with the sassy little smirk of superior knowledge. She put down her drink.

"Even if I did do something you can't prove it."

Charlie was getting frustrated, he traveled, he slaved, and he was going to blow his lid. He thought it was rather rude to yell at a lady but this girl was no lady. Charlie got in her face

"Listen closely, whore." He paused to vent out some of his anger. "If you had done anything..." He pulled out a tiny revolver from a strap hidden from his pant legs. It was actually pretty cheap and easy to smuggle. "I prepared to suffer from the consequences of my actions, are you?"

Veruca raised her hands as you would if one pointed a weapon at you but her eat-crap grin remained.

"I have an alibi. I had a business meeting in Maryland, you can talk to my boss he's right out there. Or would you rather shoot the wrong killer?"

Charlie gritted his teeth to prevent atrocities from flowing out of his mouth. He lowered his gun and started walking out the room. "Your boss is drunk." With venom in his voice, he began to get away from the flashing lights and annoying voices. If he stayed a moment longer he was going to kill the wrong person.

The rich girl chased after him, her smile still plastered on her face. She clearly had more to say to him.

"Oh, and the next time you plan on crashing a party, make sure you're dressed for it. That jacket looks like trailer trash."

Charlie turned around and faced the rich brat. He took one good look as a slight smirk came to his face. The music quieted around them and Charlie took the opportunity to say what was on his mind.

"This jacket is worth more than your life, you vapid bitch."


	5. Chapter 5

A different kind of cold air surrounded Charlie. He breathed outward watching the little clouds of breath rush out in front of him. He knows for sure that it has to be Violet. He fiddled with the tiny revolver in his pocket. Mike and Augustus are gay crossdressers with a Basket Ball game during the time of murder. Veruca is a business bitch with a business meeting during the time of murder. So it all falls down on the blueberry girl.

Charlie had already steamed over Veruca's difficult nature in the way there. He made a mental list of how many ways he can kill her. One, call a business meeting on the side of a cliff and once she arrived throw her over the edge. That one seemed to callous. Two, invite her to dinner to 'apologize' and sick a pack of angry rodents at her. Good enough, but where was he going to get the rodents? He finally agreed with himself on a simpler way, issuing a copyright against her business.

The factory owner's thoughts fell onto Violet. About 15 years ago, he first saw the girl in a newspaper, then on TV, and then in person. She had this really hard nature about her, he remembered. She probably would have been intimidating if she wasn't half his size and had an adorable face.

Despite her tiny cuteness, Charlie still managed to hate her. She was rude, harsh, but most of all intense.

He looked around. He was in the upper areas of California where the cold weighed the heat. The sky was cloudy with depression; it looked as it were about to rain. The town was rather run down, the quaint little shops and stores littered around the sides of the narrow road of which Charlie was walking. Violet was supposed to be in this small town.

He was able to track her through news reports. It must be kind of difficult to slide under the radar with blue skin. He found articles of a mysterious blue woman that moved all the way from Georgia to California, cross country, Charlie found multiple newspapers about a hideous blue monster living in Northern California. The brunette looked down at the address. This was the last place Violet was seen.

Charlie continued to follow the path of dull houses and heard a dog barking in the distance. He walked for about five more minutes, analyzing each brick of each house of each street, Finally he found the one he was looking for.

"4569 South Faux Blvd." He said to himself. Before continuing, he blew on his ungloved hands to warm them. Everything up to this point had been a waste of time, the heir thought to himself. He began to walk hurriedly.

Now that he thought about it, she was the only suspect. Everyone else benefitted from their visit. Augustus got the chance to swim in his favorite food and he found love. Mike became a sports star and Veruca was able to open a new, successful business. Charlie watched the numbers go by. 4507, 4509, 4515, 4523…..

Violet's pride was ripped out of her and she received a permanent reminder of her transgressions. Sure she only made a mistake, but it was a stupid mistake. Of course she'd want revenge. 4545, 4557, 4559, 4563….

Charlie pulled the revolver out of his pocket; he was ready for his revenge himself. 4565, 4567, 4571….

71?! Where was 69? Charlie looked at the space between 4567 and 4571. It was empty, some graffiti scrolled across the walls, but otherwise bare.

Charlie threw down the piece of paper with the address on it to the ground and stomped on it. It wasn't here! He grabbed the sides of his head. This is so frustrating! He's been bloody everywhere only to end up at another dead end. Charlie gritted his teeth and groaned. This is hopeless, completely hopeless!

All he wanted was justice, why do things to continue to not go his way?!

After his temper tantrum, the factory owner decided to head into town. He thought he saw a bar somewhere nearby.

Charlie downed another glass of straight up whiskey. It was the only thing he could drink without getting incredibly drunk after two sips. He banged the glass on the table alerting the bar tender that he wanted another.

It was a small bar, but it had a homey feel about it. It was comfortably warm, almost comforting. Currently, the New Blues Bar had a few customers, five or six with him included.

"Coming right up, mister." The bartender addressed Charlie. He was kind of pasty-skinned but had dark hair and a slight mustache. He couldn't have been any older than 20 or 25. The young tender refilled Charlie's cup and handed it back to him. "You look pretty sad, somethin' happen?"

Charlie looked up at him. An idea came to him.

"Yeah, I couldn't find something I was looking for." Charlie said unsurely.

"What were you looking for?"

Charlie again looked at him, scanning him with his eyes. "Have you heard of the blue monster that apparently lives around here?"

The bartender stopped what he was doing. He turned around to look at Charlie, staring him straight in the eyes. The bartender's (Barry for short) eyes shifted right to left. Charlie didn't understand why that was necessary, seeing as they were basically by themselves at the bar.

"She's not a monster," Barry said quietly.

"Huh?"

"She's actually pretty amazing."

Charlie leaned back a bit to comprehend what just happened, he found his murderer. "Care to explain?"

Barry pulled up a chair and sat across from Charlie, expecting a long story. Charlie was prepared. The bartender leaned over the counter, placing his elbows on it, crossing his arms.

"A little while ago I sent my eight year old daughter home from here. She's was walking out all by herself. We don't live that far from the bar. But apparently we lived far enough for her to get attacked and her mother couldn't hear her calling."

Charlie focused in on the story; this might help him toward his goal.

"The son of a bitch began to feel her up when someone came in and beat him two ways to Sunday. My daughter says that it was a beautiful, blue woman. She also said that she was covered in cuts and burn marks." Barry stood up and made slashing motion with his index finger on his arm. Then he assumed his previous position. "But my main point is that the blue monster may not be a monster."

Charlie looked away from Barry's face after the story ended. Well that wasn't help at all. He wanted to know where Violet was not why she was a 'good person'.

"Do you have any idea of where she could be now?" Charlie asked, hoping to get something out of it.

"Nope, sorry lad."

Charlie shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged through the ice frozen to the pathway. He left immediately after Barry's little story. At least now he knew she was at least in the area. He continued to walk down the path, breathing out little clouds.

All of a sudden a thundering pressure came upon Charlie's left side. Charlie staggered. A tall man wearing a red jacket with the hood pulled up over his head plowed Charlie down to the cement. Before the heir could acknowledge what just happened, the man's ringed fist punched Charlie's left cheek. Mind-numbing pain was what came next. His cheek pulsed and he could feel blood pumping throughout his face.

With Charlie on the floor and completely out of it, Red Man took the liberty of searching his pockets. He first tried the pant pockets. The thief discovered $600 in cash in his right jean pocket and as he began to search Charlie's coat pocket he further discovered the revolver. The thief emitted a low chuckle.

Charlie attempted to get up, but another punch disabled him. Punch after punch, until Charlie could feel the warm blood spilling onto his cold cheeks. His eyes were closed out of pain. But he did here something.

"Hey! What do you think you're doin'?!"

Charlie opened his eyes to see his attacker on the floor with a big gash on the side of his cheek. His hood had fallen down to reveal a 30 something year old low life. Above him stood a curvy woman with blue skin and red slashes up and down her arms.

The woman gave the thief a kick to the stomach.

"You better get moving," she told him. Her back was facing Charlie, so he couldn't see her face. Once again, he assumed.

The red-hooded thief scuttled away without the money and without the weapon. Charlie stood up, holding his cheek wound.

"Violet?" He asked.

All he saw was blue eyes then blackness as she kicked him in the face.


	6. Chapter 6

**Shout out to the guest that commented on chp 6 and helped me realize my mistake! Thank You!**

Charlie felt himself slip into consciousness. His vision blurring together, sharpening the images before his candy-apple green eyes. He felt a distinctive chill. His ice-cold fingers moved to rub the sleeve of his jacket to warm himself. Charlie's hand found no jacket. Just an arm, a really cold arm. With the sound of the rain, echoing in his eardrums, the heir sat up on the sidewalk. He looked at the murky scene before him.

Cold, wet, and gray, the town remained hopeless and barren. But not to Charlie.

Charlie rose, both literally and metaphorically. Charlie stood up from the sidewalk and remembered his encounter. His hopes went up dramatically as he remembered the details. She had freaking blue skin! She wouldn't be that hard to find! Then again, Violet has avoided hundreds of people who had wanted to lay eyes upon her 'hideousness'. Charlie's hopes once again, plummeted.

Charlie rubbed his bare arms for warmth. His short-sleeved, black, collared dress shirt was sopping wet. He couldn't convey for how long he had laid unconscious. What Charlie could convey though is that the blue brat stole his jacket. And after a thorough check of his pockets, he concluded that she took his money too.

The tall, brown-haired man cursed under his breath. He spotted the tiny revolver a couple feet away from him. The small killer glowed in the dark rain, it's silver luster reminded him of something else.

The silver wrapping of a Wonka chocolate bar.

He could feel himself fumble with the gun, but he could also feel the thin rectangular ticket. He could see the flash of gold. His excitement rose and he trembled.

The sound of the gun colliding with the sidewalk with a resonant **_clack_** woke him from his trance from the past.

Charlie shoved the gun into his back pocket and began stalk toward his next destination.

She took his money, so that means that she needed to buy something. Charlie ran by every store in town, from the grocers to the clothing stores to the shoe places. It did not take too long to interview each store and their employees, considering the town only had about 12 stores total. His second to last stop was at the brink of dusk, and it was still raining cats and dogs. The only gas station in town was the Seven Eleven with the broken flashing V's. _Seen Eleen_.

Charlie walked into the store, the annoying bell signifying his presence. The store was lit enough, just with that annoying light that flashed in such a way that seemed like you were having a seizure. Charlie's eyes were assaulted by the saturated tones of the candy wrappers, demotivation signs hanging everywhere and employee uniforms. Just your everyday gas station.

With few customers in the store, Charlie walked up to the cash register where a dark-color clad woman with a disturbing nose ring. She would've been pretty if her raccoon eyes didn't stare straight into his soul and maybe losing the nose ring and lip piercing would've been helpful.

"Excuse me ma'am?" The Goth lady looked up at him. "Have you seen this woman?" Charlie held up a small 8 x 10 '' photo of Violet Beaugaurde before 3 course gum with a blue filter over it. Picture perfect!

The lady pointed a long black finger nail at the newspapers with the sketch of Violet on the front page hung on the rack on the inside of the door, and lifted a dark eyebrow. Charlie sighed.

"Yes, her! Now, have you seen her at your store?"

Goth girl popped her gum and stood up and then handed Charlie a mop.

"If you want to scope for the freak and you aren't gonna' buy anything, then I suggest working for as long as you need. " She had a dominating voice.

Charlie would have left then and there if he did not hear the welcome bell ring shrilling, alerting him to another presence.

The figure was hard to see because they were wearing a thick coat with a fur collar, hands shoved in pockets and hood up. Charlie smirked with success. He dropped the mop and made his way over to his murderer. However, the sound of the mop colliding with the floor alerted his prey. She looked his way. Automatically recognizing him, she started to run.

Violet was a bit late taking off because Charlie was able to pull the hood down and reveal the blue monster beneath it. The annoying bell announced their exit.

"Violet!"

Charlie slid behind her in the rain, her footsteps pounding in his ears. He could see the fur of his coat bobbing in front of him and his anger overtook him. In Charlie's mind, the only thing he could think of is how much fun it would be to shoot the blueberry brat between her blue eyes. He wanted to get his revenge. He wanted to feel her suffer. Suffer like he did, cry like he did, and die like **HE** did. With the rain, never letting up, persistently stinging his cold skin, Charlie was going numb. Yet his pure rage drove him to continue running. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the bobbing hood suddenly fall to the ground with a satisfying thump.

Charlie made his way over to the coat. With it moving up and down, it looked like the coat itself was taking short, shallow breaths. Charlie reached out a raw, wet hand and ripped the coat off of the trembling figure beneath it.

The past Violet Beaurgaurde had transformed into what looked like a homeless person. Her purple-blue skin had not faded and was as bright as ever. Her hair chopped roughly and her bangs running into her big, ocean blue eyes. She was dressed in nothing but an old black tank top and a pair of ripped shorts. As for her body, her breasts were notably noticeable. They weren't as big as Augustus's fake ones, but they sure could dirty a holy man's mind. Charlie felt a twinge of guilt when he noticed her ribs peeking through her top and her stomach swollen with hunger. Never mind that Charlie, he thought to himself. The corners of his mouth had twisted into sickly smile. At last, he will have his sweet revenge.

"Ahem."

Charlie looked down at Violet, who hadn't moved from her position on the floor. It wasn't until Charlie saw the bloody knees that he knew why.

"What do you want with me?" Violet looked at him with such a passionate hatred that the heir felt a sliver of fear. "For that matter, how do you know my name?" Her eyes burned an impression into his heart.

"You know me, murderer." Charlie shuffled out his revolver and pointed it at her. Because of her position on the floor , Charlie saw his advantage.

Her cerulean eyes flashed with confusion. "Murderer?"

Charlie's temper came back. "Don't play dumb with me, you sl-"

"What is your name?" The blueberry girl interrupted. Charlie sighed exasperatedly.

"My name is Charlie Bucket."

Charlie watched as a mixture of recognition, terror, fear, and shame pass over Violet's face. He also watched as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She suddenly slumped over and hit the ground.

His murderer had fainted.

 **Hey guys! What's up? I know I haven't updated in a long time, but school has gotten me occupied. Now that it's October break, I can update. So, a couple of things….**

 **I'm sorry for mixing up Veruca's eye color; I've just always seen it as brown.**

 **As for whom the murderer is, I can't wait to spill the beans because I have planned out the entire story from the first chapter. And a little warning beforehand, there will be some death (duh) in the later chapters.**

 **Lastly! To anyone that is actually reading this, I am conducting an experiment. Do you guys think I am a boy or a girl? What about my age? To anyone who will get this right (to an extent) I will write a story for them. Whatever they want and however they want. Happy Guessing!**


	7. Chapter 7

Charlie Bucket looked down at the broken girl beneath him. His breaths came out in heavy clouds of excitement. His murderer lay before him, unconscious and ready for death.

His pale hand shook as he pulled out the small, silver revolver and contemplated his revenge . If he went to prison,fine. If he was rewarded for killing the beast of northern California, fine. Everything was just fine. Yet, a sliver of doubt managed to creep into his mind.

"How did she do it?" The doubt nagged.

Charlie shook his head as if to shake off such thoughts. This was the moment he's been waiting for. The one he's been suffering for. He was going to take away the life that she hated so much. He's be doing her a favor, he thought. Charlie shakily rose the gun and aimed it between the blueberry girl's eyes.

"Look at her clothes," the annoying voice had returned.

Charlie took a moment and within that moment he deduced that Violet couldn't possibly be his killer.

Her clothes implied a lack of money; How could she have afforded a plane ticket but not a decent jacket? Nevermind a jacket, what about a decent meal?

Charlie threw the gun down in dismay. His thoughts raced with fury. Why did nothing seem to go right for him?!

"Damn it Damn it Damn it!" Charlie muttered almost as some messed up cheer. Go team Damn it!

Charlie turned toward Violet, whom was still on the ground, most likely freezing to death. Charlie took notice to her shivering and her whimpering in her unconscious state.

"Protect her. Help her." The voice at last said. The thought sunk in so deeply that the thought itself seemed to rattle his bones.

The heir saw his abandoned jacket a few feet away from the trembling figure. He then looked around, hoping to find a place for shelter. The gray building that bled blandness were probably full of boring families hiding from the rain. It wasn't until Charlie saw an old-looking bridge about 600 feet away, that he made his ?

Charlie picked up the jacket and threw it unto the blue girl's shoulders. He then scooped her into his arms. Violet's head rested on Charlie's chest. The skin on skin contact with her made him uncomfortable but he bore through it. Some people had it worse than he at this moment.

Charlie huffed and puffed his way over to the bridge. In his mind, he was laughing. Two minutes ago, he was about to kill the girl who was currently in his arms. But he felt a wave of protectiveness cascade over him. He wanted to protect her. From what, he did not know. Other people? Society? Herself?

It wasn't long until the pair had arrived at their destination. The bridge was grimy and leaky but it was what could be managed.

Charlie carefully set Violet down, wrapping the jacket around her cold, blue limbs. While he was caring for his cargo, Charlie took notice to a pile of miscellaneous food items across from him.

After a thorough investigation of the items, Charlie discovered where Violet Beauregarde has been hiding for the past couple of years. Charlie rummaged through plastic-wrapped loaves of expired bread and cans of...cabbage soup?

Charlie stared straight into an open can of the disgusting green mixture, which was mixed with rain water.

Watered-down Cabbage Soup

Charlie was then plunged into a full sensory overload. His ears buzzed and he had the taste of salty water in his mouth. He gasped for air. All he saw was black, and then he heard a voice.

"We're having cabbage soup again for dinner, sweetie." A sweet voice echoed off the corners of his mind. Charlie felt the corners of his mouth turn up into a forced smile.

And for a moment, Charlie saw the bowl of watery cabbage in the can of watery cabbage. Then it was gone and all her saw in the reflection was his own shocked face.

They've switched roles. While he was obsessed with murder, she was living in poverty. But it was worse than that. Charlie, at least had his family to comfort him, but Violet had no one. Charlie turned to look at the sleeping figure.

The oversized jacket hung on her shoulders. Her blue skin brought color to the gray everything. A strand of hair fell into her face.

Charlie reflexively brushed the strand away and he saw her. In that moment, she looked perfect. She was in need of a shower and some better clothes, but at that time, to Charlie, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

In a second, Charlie decided that he wanted to take care of her. Another idea came to him, a life without the need for vengeance, leaving the investigation to the police. A life, waking up next to her, making sure she's okay. Because she deserves to be happy and he will make her happy.

A soft moan woke Charlie from his thoughts, he was sitting face to face with the unconscious girl. Charlie saw his eyes flutter open. Her oceans interlocking with his forests.

At first the only thing he did was stare lazily back at him. Then a glint in her eyes showed her realization of the memories of the hour previous. Violet's eyes widened and a look of fear returned to her features.

The blue-skinned girl practically threw herself against the wall of the bridge. She scrambled as far away from him as she could manage.

"Violet, wait!" Charlie called, raising his hands as to illustrate his decision to not hurt her. Then again her fear was reasonable, considering that the last time she saw him, he was accusing her of murder with a gun in his hand.

Violet curled herself into a fetal position, hugging her knees tightly. She hid her face.

"Violet, listen to me," Charlie reacted out a hand to comfort her. The blueberry girl flinched at his touch. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Violet looked up at him. Unfallen tears glistening in her eyes.

"W-What do you w-want?" She asked, slightly muffled.

He knelt down and considered telling her the whole story about Wonka's death and his investigation and his reasons behind almost shooting her. But, he decided against it. Instead, he told her what we wanted to do, now.

"I'm here because I want to take care of you."

Apparently that statement was surprising. Violet's head whiplashed up, her entire face revealed. Her eyes wide and her mouth in an o-shape. Almost immediately after that , her eyes became sad.

"You're joking, aren't you? This is all some prank?"

Charlie shook his head frantically.

"No, no, no no. I'm being serious." Charlie gently reached and picked up her hand. Her digits were freezing. He looked her straight in the eye and replied.

"I want to take care of you. You've been through enough crap and I, uh." Charlie stuttered. he did not know why, but he thought this was the greatest solution. "I want you to live with me.

Violet's face flushed to a purple-ish color and she hung her head. The hand that Charlie held made a fist. She ripped it out of his hand.

"Stop it."

"What?"

"Stop treating me like a human being!" The tears that had inhabited her eyes broke free and ran down her face in streams of sadness.

It was Charlie's turn to be shocked.

"B-but Violet, you are a hu-"

Violet shook with repressed anger and sorrow.

"I'm not! I'm just some freakish brat who's, who's,"the blueberry girl searched for words. "Idiotic and makes s-stupid mistakes," she found them. "Besides," she paused. "Living with a blueberry would disgust you."

For some reason this made him snap.

"Violet, listen to me." Charlie said, pulling the girl into an awkward hug. "You were a child, you were allowed to make mistakes." At this point she was sobbing and he did not know what he was saying. "You shouldn't judge yourself on one mistake, others shouldn't judge you for that one mistake." He stopped and looked down at her and smiled kindly, genuinely.

"And, I don't know about living with a blueberry, but I believe I can tolerate a beautiful woman."


	8. Chapter 8

Charlie side-glanced at the figure next to him. Her small form crunched itself up in the brown leather seats of the taxi they were currently in. She was wearing his jacket, again, but this time it was to hide her skin color from their rather rude chauffeur.

When they first hailed him at the Marshall Airport, he simply said "Get in the car you pair of yahoos". His grimy face, covered in cigarette soot, wrinkled up in distaste. His dirty hat, tipped backwards, read 'LEAVE ME ALONE.' Charlie sighed, another reason why he prefered the safety of the velvet walls inside the factory.

Violet was fidgeting with the end of his sleeves, as they seemed to overlap her hands by much. Her nervous nature, he believed was justified. From what he could tell, she hasn't experienced civilization in over 10 years (for that point, neither has he). Not to mention that she would be returning to the place that changed her life for the worse, in the first place. She was scared, so scared.

In a temporary moment of mouth diarrhea (Damn his mouth!), he explained to her that the factory wasn't really The Factory, anymore. And it was true.

To start, all of the workers that Wonka recruited, the Loompa thingies, all left after Wonka's death seeing as their deal was with him and not Charlie. They had a nice sendoff, and were provided with a habitat that would keep them safe from the pointing fingers of humanity. But, the place was quite different after they left, all music seemed to drain from the rhythmic walls of the chocolate paradise.

Also, Charlie had most of the rooms and their contents removed, as he did not believe that he'd be able to tend to them without having a complete mental breakdown. So the wonderland was gone, but what wasn't gone was the inventions and the products the Chocolate duo made together. It hurt Charlie a little to even think about it, but he hoped that now, when he has someone to take care of, he'll be able to move on. He wasn't going to stop investigating his mentor's murder, but he was going to postpone it until Violet was in good health. He considered letting her in on the plot, due to her marital abilities and quick-thinking, she could be useful.

But he needed to help her first.

Without even realising it, but the entire time he was staring at the blue girl sitting next to him. She caught him staring at her half way through his inner rant. She met his gaze with burning cauldrons of blue. Violet cleared her throat to catch his attention, and it worked, somewhat. Seeing as he was already focused on her, he entered planet earth once more.

"Huh-uh...y-yeah?" he finished awkwardly.

She smiled sadly, once more and Charlie felt another pang to his broken heart.

"I see the way you look at me sometimes."

"Oh! Um..I'm sorry, I was just-"

Violet turned away from him but continued to speak in that lamenting tone. "I can tell by the way you look. I disgust you. And I don't blame you." She looked at him again. "I disgust me too." She closed her eyes and smiled the best she could.

Charlie could only look on in horror at the blueberry girl's idea of herself. He didn't think that at all and now he wanted more than anything in the world to tell her that. But every time he seemed to open his mouth to talk to her, he couldn't find words. So, he did what he could, which was pat her head.

Violet was startled by the sudden pat, but she didn't object. So, they sat, across from each other, staring at one another, Charlie's hand still on Violet's head.

"Yo, Slowomeo and Bluiet, we're here. I only take cash." The driver interrupted.

Charlie broke eye contact first and moved to open his door. That was when he saw something that stopped him from exiting.

Violet was about the get out of the yellow vehicle when Charlie grabbed her elbow. "Wait here," he told her. She looked confused, but she obeyed.

Charlie handed the drive a hundred dollar bill before telling the rude man to let the girl wait in the car for a while. He grunted in disapproval, but accepted the bill.

The heir exited the car and determinedly made his way towards the enormous gray building. He saw the door to the doll stage opened, the knob and lock broken off.

Someone was here that wasn't supposed to be.

The knob lying on the ground was viciously torn off the doors and the lock attached to the knob was snapped at an odd angle. Charlie observed these strange details. He stepped through the open door, expecting to find the velvet torn from the walls, statues and paintings vandalised, and the hallway in a mess. However, everything seemed to be in order, except for a strange pile of cream-colored powder. Charlie kneeled down and pinched a bit off of the top of the powdery residue. He rubbed his fingers together, watching the crushed crystals fall.

Charlie knelt there for a little while more, intently looking at the mysterious pile. But then something very strange happened. It appeared as the swirly, purple carpet opened its eyes. Persistent brown eyes stared at Charlie from the carpet.

"What the…" Charlie moved to touch the eyes when the eyes turned into a face, and that face blew the sleeping powder into Charlie's own bewildered expression.

Charlie was shocked awake. Literally shocked 50,000 volts of electricity. His eyes shot open, and the peachy color of his skin left his face in a flash of pain and surprise. After his startling awakening, his head hung down but his eyes stared wide at his captor.

More like captors.

The tall chocolatier felt cold blood run out of his nose and he couldn't do anything about it running down into his mouth and dribbling down his chin, as his hands were roughly tied behind his back. The way that his arm ached, they probably broke his arm whilst kidnapping process began. But that didn't matter right now.

Before him stood his captors, Augustus Gloop, Mike Teavee, and Veruca Salt. Each in the same clothes they had worn on the day of the loomed over him like arrogant gods testing the extent of mortality.

Veruca leaned down to his level with a smirk. "Good Morning, Jesus Kid."

Charlie attempted to spit in her face, but wound up adding more blood to his already prosperous waterfall. She looked down on him with a mixture of pride and superiority.

She clutched his face with her index finger and thumb. "Hope that little spark didn't hurt you too bad. Afterall, that would be rude and we don't want to be rude to our host."

Charlie had never wished so hard that harm came to another. This was a lot of firsts for him. This was also the first time Charlie had ever sunk his teeth into someone.

Veruca reeled back in surprise. "Charlie bit me!"

Mike let out a slight chuckle at this statement, and Augustus looked as if he were about to explode with laughter. Veruca growled. She ordered them to leave and they obeyed. Once the were outside of the room, hoots of laughter could be heard. Veruca growled again. They weren't the most cooperative team.

Veruca kicked Charlie in the stomach and he toppled over. Veruca turned him over so he had a view of her face.

"We killed that bastard. And now, I'll kill you."

Charlie felt a stabbing pain in his chest, he found his murderer. Suddenly Charlie had an explosion of blood in his mouth, it ran out, between his lips, some of the blood already dried onto his face. He could only manage one word.

"How?"

Veruca began to explain. "If you hadn't noticed, Augustus is good with makeup. We disguised another player as Mike while he and Gus met me at the gates of this stupid place. I also was able to bribe another girl to get drunk with my boss in order for me to sneak away." Veruca ran her sharpened nails along Charlie's cheek and he could feel them break skin. "Then we killed him. We were able to break in easily, considering Mike's new ability to stretch and flatten. He squeezed through the door slit and unlocked the door from the other side."

Charlie could only stare on in horror as Veruca continued the story.

"We burned him, stretched him and we threw him into that waterfall. It was enlightening."

"You bitch." Charlie uttered, wheezing from extreme pain and sadness. He found his murderer and he couldn't do anything about it . Here it was, the target of his revenge dangling mockingly in front of his face and he couldn't do anything about. He felt salty tears run down his face.

Veruca smirked with victory. She pulled out a gun from what seemed like nowhere and pointed it at Charlie's head. Charlie looked down the barrel of the gun, preparing for his fate.

"I knew you'd have to die , better late than never, huh?" Veruca fingered the trigger. "Say hi to that bastard for m, would you."

Charlie heard a gunshot and a scream.

"YOU!"

 **Hey guys! Wow it's been a long time since I've updated and for that I apologize but here's the new chapter! So...Who wants to know who won?**

 ***drumroll plz* …..**

 **…..**

 **….**

 **I'm a 15 year old girl! Yeah...I act rather mature for my age…**

 **Well, so the winner is LinkWonka88! Send me a message about the story that you want and happy reading!**


	9. AN

**VERY IMPORTANT MESSAGE FROM AUTHOR-CHAN!**

 **So, I've noticed that many of my previous readers haven't seen the newest chapter, which is incredibly important because a lot of crap goes down in that chapter and I can not start writing the next chapter until you guys have read it.**

 **I also have some news for you guys! Some people have drawn fanart! I wish I could show you but ….You guys are going to have to email me to see it, and also I'd appreciate if you drew some fanart for me! ^-^ Here's my email;** **jaboring0601 .org**

 **Lastly, I have some questions for you guys…**

 **What did you think of the revelation of the murderer? I knew I wanted to build it up like that but I honestly didn't think that the final revelation lived up to the hype, so some feedback would be nice…**

 **Do you guys think I should get Violet and Charlie together? It wasn't my plan to make them romantic and fluffy and all that jazz, but it kinda ended up that way. I wanted some way for Charlie to realise that he's not the only one who's hurting in the world and what better way than with someone that he knew before?**

 **See you guys next chapter!**


	10. Chapter 10

Violet stood, trembling with terror, with the silver pistol smoking in her cerulean hand. Her eyes wide in trepidation and surprise as her shot had actually hit its target.

Veruca lay on the floor, desperately trying to stop the blood that was currently free falling out of a wound on her upper thigh. Her arrogant smirk turned into a look of horror.

The blue girl dropped the gun and ran to Charlie's side. She silently untied him and cleaned his face with his jacket which was still recovering from its shower the day previous. Violet was careful not to touch his broken arm and she helped him stand up. Charlie could not believe his eyes. It was as if an indigo-colored angel had descended from the clouds to rescue him from the French-tipped nails of certain death.

"Violet!" He cried breathlessly. "You literally just saved my life!" Charlie beamed at his savior before he began to feel the pull. As he got closer and closer to her face, he took notice of a crystal coat of tears in her eyes. At that point, it was almost magnetic. His lips gravitated towards hers but before the positive and negative atomic poles could be satisfied they were interrupted.

"You slut!" Veruca shrieked, her voice cracking half-way through the statement. Violet flew into Charlie's chest, knocking the breath out of him for a moment. Charlie wrapped his good arm around her protectively. "You've ruined everything, you, stupid piece of produce," the dying girl hiccupped once more and Violet began shaking in the heir's arms.

Upon hearing their ring leader's cries, the married couple came bursting into the room.

"Salt! What's going…" Mike paused upon seeing Veruca bleeding out on the floor, Charlie standing and the new addition to the group. "On." His narrow, brown eyes flashed over to the gun Violet had dropped but before her could make a move, Charlie found the Glock Veruca was going to murder him with, it was by his left foot. He kicked it up into the air and caught it with the hand that had been around Violet's shoulders. Charlie pointed at the two while the very scared blueberry girl clung to his chest, observing the scene with curious eyes.

Augustus glanced up at Mike, fear staining his turquoise eyes. They pulled on the hem of Mike's uniform before slowly raising his hands in the air. Mike realizing what his wife/husband was saying and followed suit. The 4th golden ticket winner's face downcast from failure.

Despite the two, remaining silent, Veruca still had something to say.

"You don't understand what he has done." Veruca glared up at him. "He's done so much, more than you know." Before Charlie knew it, Veruca took off her dress in a flash of blood red. It revealed both matching, black, lingerie and burn marks scoring almost half of her entire body, including most of her legs and some of the right side of her abdomen. The scabbed red and brown skin crawled up her body like some sort of virus. It was a very disturbing sight. The debutante shivered under Charlie's gaze, her eyes glowed with a fury he's never witnessed before. "He's done this to me. And not just me," her voice grew slurry and Veruca's passion dulled, and so did the life from her eyes. She nodded towards Augustus.

Augustus eyed the gun Charlie was holding but he stepped up anyways. The she-male explained.

"I already had put myself in danger with as much as I ate of it, but exposing the iron in my blood to the excessive amounts of sucrose in the chocolate caused a chemical reaction called Symbiosis. Turning my blood into," he paused to pull up the sleeve of his fuchsia jacket to reveal cuts that were coated with curdled blood. "Iron disucrose oxide. Once my blood hits the oxygen in the air, I'm at risk of dying, every time. Every time."

Charlie couldn't help but stare at the ugly, horizontal marks on Augustus's arm and he couldn't help but feel a small pin stab at his already broken heart. But it wasn't over yet; it was Mike's turn.

Mike's once warm smile had turned into a painful one. He put a hand on his spouse's shoulder before grabbing his exposed arm and gently kissing each of the cuts. The sweet murderer then kissed his love's tears away.

Mike had then reached down and pulled down his socks, Charlie followed his movements with his eyes to find actual buckles where his ankles should be. In one quick movement, the tall basketball player unbuckled the prosthetics from his actual legs. He stepped out of the fake limbs to stand and try to balance on his stubs. He failed in his efforts, as two seconds later he fell on his rear. Mike chuckled nervously as Charlie's jaw had almost dropped to animated levels.

"When I got stretched, I wasn't able to walk very well considering how out of proportion everything was," he elaborated, raising an arm to indicate his once taller form. "Once I began to fill out a little more, gravity effected the circulation in my system. The blood in my body wasn't going to the places that it needed too…so, I had to say goodbye to flesh and bone and hello to plastic and metal." Mike finished clipping the prosthetics back on and standing up. He was trying to maintain a happy-go-lucky attitude but Charlie could hear the pain and suffering laced in his words. He really did not understand what his mentor had done to these human beings…but murder is no compensation, no matter how terrible the deeds done.

Veruca seemed to detect this and she slumped to the floor, gasping in the pain of the action. "We may not matter that much to you with blood on our mitts but what about someone with clean hands?" The woman stared up at him through half-lidded eyes. "If you can forgive him for what he's done to her, then shoot me." Veruca dared, mustering the rest of her strength to give him another cocky grin.

Charlie knew automatically who she was referring to as Violet trembled more and more violently as the conversation went on. The only thing Charlie could think to do was to pocket the gun, giving Mike and Augustus a pointed look, and rub her back. Much like how his mother would rub his back when he was having a hard day.

The nostalgic man felt something strange however, as he ran his fingers across her back. Broken skin and tender bruises of days long past. As he continued through this development, his fingers found long, jagged scars, haphazardly held together by lazy thread stitching. He counted at least five on her back for sure. That small pin had turned into a giant sword as he heard Violet grimace in pain and felt her tears wet his shirt. Charlie had a feeling that those scars weren't even the half of it.

Charlie drew her closer to him and held her tightly, refusing to let her go now. But Violet raised her head to look up at him. Her tears made purple tracks on her face, but she paid no mind to them as she was looking intently at Charlie.

"I'm fine." She told him tersely before pushing him away from her and sinking down into a nearby corner, wiping the tears she hated so.

The heir knew he had to make a choice. Should he forgive the person he had looked up to his entire life but hurt and scarred people. People who make mistakes; which was what made them human. Willy Wonka told these children that it wasn't okay to make mistakes or mess up from time to time. The little 11-year-old boy inside of Charlie knew that he couldn't ever really forgive Wonka for that. Charlie opened his mouth to surrender when he noticed Veruca start to dribble blood from her frozen smile. He watched the color slowly drain from her face and she began to cry out. Then, all Charlie wanted to do was to put her out of her misery.

Veruca stared at him with dying eyes, a plead to stop the pain and Charlie knew what he needed to do. Charlie raised the gun and shot Veruca Salt between her eyes.

The sound bounced over and over again in Charlie's ears. The other three dawned the face of pure shock. One moment Veruca was there, the next, the only part left of her face was that arrogant smirk.

Nausea set in. The acidic taste of nothing burned the inside of his throat. His vision became spotty. He could feel himself swaying. He tried not to fall over. Then he was supported by a person at his side.

Violet held his hurt side gently but firmly so he wouldn't topple over. She had blood running out of a small would below her right eye. Oh, how Charlie hated to see blood on her face. Her beautiful face. Yet, he could do nothing to wipe it away.

Charlie's head began to clear when his thoughts were severed by a child's voice.

"Daddy! Daddy!" A young girl with braided red hair and freckles came whooshing into the room. She hung on Mike's leg and started to jump up and down. "Daddy! Pick me up! I want to be tall again." She giggled excitedly as she beamed up at her Dad. At the lack of response from her normally energetic father, she looked around at the rodeo she had just walked into. After about a minute of complete silence the girl screamed and dove in front of Mike and Augustus.

"Don't hurt my daddies!" she cried. "They didn't do anything wrong! Please just please! I need my daddies!" The small girl hung her head and began sobbing. "Please."

Before Charlie could say anything, Augustus put a hand on his daughter's shoulder.

"Honey, but your daddies did something wrong." Augustus looked up at him to tell him wordlessly to leave the girl out of it. Mike stepped up and kissed the little girl on the forehead and finished Augustus's statement.

"And now we have to pay for it." The man pushed his little girl away after ruffling her hair in an affectionate manner. The girl shrieked in disagreement. Mike bent down to kiss his wife one last time before closing his eyes and awaiting his death. As Augustus hyperventilated, he did the same thing. The cold grasp of death marked them and they were waiting.

Charlie watched soundlessly in surprise. In that moment, Charlie chucked the gun against the wall, the casing shattering at the impact. The two men's eyes shot open at the resonant sound. They saw the gun laying broken and far away. Confused and anxious, they froze.

"I have no intent of killing you." Charlie explained, his eyes shimmering. "Death is a fickle thing. You wish for it but then you do everything you can to prevent it when it comes knocking at your door. So, leave with this. Be human. Make mistakes. Be gay. Be fabulous. Be great parents. Be happy. Be sad. Be violent and hungry and impulsive and wanting. Be human." The man turned to gaze at Violet. "you too," he added as the fathers shuffled quickly out of the room.

Mike slung his arm around Charlie's shoulders and whispered a warm thank you, before kissing a startled Violet on her crown. Augustus awkwardly kissed Charlie on the cheek and sent a comforting smile toward his husband and his little girl.

"Come on Willie, we have to get home." He stated taking Willie's hand as Mike took the other.

Charlie stared at the fleeing figures. Her name was Willie. They named her Willie. Maybe, he really didn't need his revenge. That name would've changed everything from the very beginning. Willie.

Violet peered up at him. "Is it over?" She asked, genuine curiosity in her words. Charlie looked down at her and that was it.

It had felt so natural. Like it was there from the start and it had finally come out into the open. Charlie grew numb. The only thing he could feel were his lips on hers. A warmth spread between them like a fire. Her touch infectious as the fire spread from his lips to his face and to his heart. He yearned for her touch more and more. At one point, he heard Violet whimper and he pulled away to see not only a long string of salvia connecting them but Violet's dumb-struck expression. And that's when it hit Charlie, she's never had this kind of contact with anyone or anything in her life. Heck! She just spent over half of her years as a hermit! Charlie doubted that she's even been given the talk! What had he done!

"Oops."

 **So…there is one more chapter…and I need some of your opinions on this chapter before I start the next. It's about that contest I set up a while ago, LinkWonka88 explained that she didn't really have any requests but I came up with a few ideas myself!**

 **AU-I will be writing music fics based off of the songs from Be More Chill, Dear Evan Hansen, Hamilton, Heathers, my own songs, and more.**

 **2\. Childish-In which in an attempt to cure Violet's skin color, Mr. Wonka accidentally turns her into a child! He and Charlie will have to raise her and take note of some interesting facts they hadn't known before. Including scars they've never noticed.**

 **3\. Genderbend-Charlotte was an average girl until she won a ticket to Wilma Wonka's Chocolate Factory. Along the way she meets a self-conscious Agatha, a Mommy's Boy Victor, a rather cute Blu, and the moody Michelle. Just what is in store for our poor girl?**

 **So tell me what you thought of the chapter and what you'd be most interested in reading? Oh! And I will be working on turning this fic into a movie on youtube! So patrons would be great, actors too…Yeah I'm way too excited for this. My email is jaboring0601 .org TALK TO ME!**


	11. The Last Chapter

It wasn't raining this time either. Charlie felt like roaring up to the sky, screaming CRY DAMNIT! CRY WITH ME! Despite these thoughts, he kept his cool.

He looked down at the gravestone in front of him with forlorn eyes. It wasn't that long ago that he was, once again, here, mourning his loss. Death is such a fickle thing, you wish for it and it takes another.

The brunette closed his eyes and he wished to go back to a time when everything was okay again. To tiptoe around the inevitable, Charlie thought of something that had made him happy.

Back to about five months ago, after the socially-awkward, 27-year-old, Charlie Bucket and even more socially-awkward, 25-year-old, Violet Beauregard shared a kiss. Charlie was so flustered, as he became aware that he had stolen her first kiss, that he offered to do anything to make it up to her. Her entire face was a bright shade of purple, reminding Charlie a little of a grape, and she merely asked to be left alone for a while. Charlie felt a strong urge to pull her into his arms again, he wanted to taste the fire again. He ignored the urge as he recognized the priority to his heart, truly was Violet Beauregard.

Violet, the human blueberry, Beauregard.

So, for the next couple of weeks, she was locked away in the Spree guest room. And every day, Charlie would bring her food and water. It started with two meals, which turned into three meals, which turned into three meals and a rose, which turned into three meals and a rose and notes that asked, 'Are you okay?' and 'Forgive me?' One time, Charlie came around the corner to find Violet nervously fidgeting outside of the door.

From where he was he could see her tangling and untangling her fingers together. Charlie also saw her jaw begin to twitch and work as if she was chewing her signature piece of gum. He observed her doing this for a while until her eyes widened in realization. She smacked herself in order to stop the familiar movement. Quickly, the girl disappeared back into the room before Charlie could stop her.

Something else was off about Violet on this particular day. Charlie noticed, as she hurriedly shuffled into her hole, large, black bruises on her calves and her upper arms. The socially inept man wondered how they came to be and realized just how much Violet has been tossed around these past few days. Pushed, thrown, and hit. Charlie assumed this was the cause of the bruises. That night, he brought a first aid kit along with a message reading 'I'm sorry'.

The next morning, Violet was outside her door again, waiting for Charlie to come with the food. Charlie was pleased to see that her wounds were bandaged and cared for. When he approached her, he handed her the tray with food on it. She took it, a small smile forming on her lips as she whispered a thank you. After that, the two simply stared at each other for a few seconds, as Charlie sensed that the girl wanted to talk to him but didn't know how to go about it. She eventually came to.

"Um, would you mind kneeling?" Violet asked in a nervous manner, stuttering. Charlie obliged, curious as to why she needed him to get on his knees. Was she planning something? He decided not to think about it as it made his head begin to spin. And before he knew it, she planted her lips upon his and the fire came back.

Charlie hadn't known just how much he had missed it until the taste was back, circulating through his senses pleasantly. Violet had her eyes tightly closed, her face slowly turning the purple Charlie remembered before.

She was about to reel back but Charlie gently grabbed the back of her head, deepening the kiss. Violet began to relax in his hold, giving in to the burning fire. After about a minute, Charlie pulled away and opened his eyes. He tried to keep himself from laughing at the sight he saw before him. Violet's face was flushed and her choppy hair tousled to oblivion. She was panting with the lack of air. When she saw the look Charlie was giving her, she snapped angrily.

"What do you think your laughing at?!" Violet asked, hands on hips, the sassiness Charlie remembered returning.

"You look so cute," Charlie laughed, putting a hand on her head before standing up. He had found that the reason he had to kneel was that Violet could not reach his lips, even on the tips of her toes. "So…What do you think?"

This statement seemed to hit Violet with a ton of bricks as her facial expression went completely blank before turning purple again. She glanced up at him, hints of shyness showing as Charlie was staring at her awaiting an answer.

"Do you think I can have more?" She asked, refusing to look him in the face. Charlie simply smiled and heaved her into his arms.

"Of course, you can." He replied sweetly before engaging in another warm kiss.

Charlie smiled at the memory that seemed so far away now. It felt good to think about the things that made him happy. The man looked down at the gravestone that read William Vern Wonka and placed a single, white rose on the head of the grave.

White symbolizing absolute purity and perfectionism. Also meaning admiration within rose form. He sure as hell was all these things. So, white seemed to fit Mr. Wonka perfectly.

Charlie walked a little bit farther away from his mentor's grave to come upon another headstone. He plunged into another better time.

Charlie and Violet sat within the Sweet Tart Study; her, reading and he, fumbling with a broken radio. Willy had said that the device had been busted ever since the 70's which made Charlie wonder just how old was Mr. Wonka.

Violet asked him why he as even trying to fix something that had been broken for such a long time. He simply smiled and answered with a hint of cheek.

"It worked with you, didn't it?"

She threw her book at him and an annoyed pout rested on her face. Charlie chuckled at the sight, rubbing the arm where the book had made contact. He looked back down at the task at hand, fumbling with the transmitter and the wires. Charlie pulled up the transmitter to full height and connected the red and green wire. Hearing a bit of piano, amongst the static, the man pulled the rabbit ear this way and that until he received a clear signal.

'Good afternoon everyone and welcome back to 96.9. After Matthew's spiel about our upcoming Iheartradio festival, we will be giving you a chance to win some free tickets to this awesome event!'

The two stared at the radio in surprise. Not only does it work but it picked up signals all the way in Boston! Violet muttered a "I can't believe you actually fixed it." Charlie nodded in agreement; apparently, neither did he.

'But before that here's 3y3brows with " _I love you too._ "

Charlie looked over to Violet, and stood up, radio still in hand. He set the radio on a nearby bookshelf.

 _It wasn't that long ago_

 _I saved you from that hell you call a home_

Charlie offered his hand to Violet. When she did not take it right away, he took her indigo one in his own. He pulled her up, off the velvet couch, and grabbed her waist, pulling her closer to him. She gave him a look that read 'are we really going to be doing this right now?' He gave her another one that said 'yes, yes we are.' Violet rose an eyebrow at him, but put her hand on his shoulder.

 _I picked up when you fell_

 _Back then you were just a shell_

Charlie guided the smaller girl around the tiled floor, closing his eyes and humming to the music. Violet let a small grin crack her wish to remain stoic. Charlie took it as a challenge.

 _But now you're more_

The silly heir dropped to his knees and extended his arms, as if serenading the blue woman. Violet giggled a little bit at told him he was being ridiculous. Charlie wiggled his thick eyebrows and caught his other by surprise by lifting her up in the air.

 _And now you soar_

Twirling her around in the air, Charlie became satisfied with the wide smile that broke onto her face. She laughed, liking the feeling of being tall. He set Violet down gently, his eyes glimmering with happiness. He held her hand again, gazing intently into her big, blue eyes. Charlie began to guide her across the floor once more.

 _I am happy, I am true_

 _You are sad, you are blue_

Charlie spun her away and back into his arms and he held her there, rocking her back and forth.

 _Forget the past!_

 _Time runs fast!_

 _And I want to be there_

Violet looked up at him, holding his face with one hand, she smiled. Charlie leaned down, still holding his love in his arms to sing softly to her.

 _To catch you when you fall_

 _To be the only one to call_

He brushed a gentle hand through her lavender hair, and went down to her back, tracing the ugly scars with his finger. He wanted to let her know that he loved even the ugliest part of her. Her past. Charlie quickly removed his hand from her back when he noticed fresher bruises scoring the delicate skin on her neck and shoulders. She didn't seem to notice so Charlie disregarded them. He continued to sing to her. His hand came to stroke her cheek.

 _To wipe away your tears_

 _To chase away your fears_

She beamed at him, her eyes sparkling, and whispered. "I love you." Charlie's cheeks tinged pink. This was the first time she had ever said it back to him as he had said it to her before. He wrapped both arms around her waist and hugged her tightly. And whispered back.

 _To say I Love You Too._

Everything now can never add up to anything then Charlie thought bitterly. He placed a red rose on a grave that read Veruca Jane Salt. Red being the color of passion and bravery but also blood and sin. A mixture of all four described this misunderstood young woman.

Now, time seemed to move in slow motion as he came upon a third grave. Charlie took a deep breath. He remembered the time when Violet had first told him her story.

She explained that when her and her mother returned home, her mother never accepted her daughter from that point on, ignoring her on all occasions. Which, the blue girl offered, was not too bad as she learned to take care of herself but had still made her sad. No one was there for her when she needed it the most. She felt so alone. And so blue, she hated it. She hated herself. Violet recounted chopping off all her hair and cutting away at something that wasn't hair.

Charlie felt a lump form in the back of his throat, the overwhelming feeling of overprotectiveness and anger became solid. He attempted to swallow it back because Violet had not noticed his change in facial expression and continued.

After about three years of this, one day, Violet woke up to the smell of cinnamon. She arose from the bed and shuffled into the kitchen, curious. Her mother stood, cooking breakfast. Shuffling eggs around mindlessly, she then turned her attention to the golden pancake that was slowly rising. When Scarlet finally noticed Violet standing in the kitchen and she smiled slightly.

"Good Morning." She bid, not looking at her daughter directly. Violet was taken aback. The first words her mother had said to her in 1,102 days (she counted). "You hungry? I would imagine so since it is 10:00!"

Violet quietly muttered an apology and went to the fridge to grab the milk and the syrup. She didn't understand it but she wasn't going to refuse it. She wanted someone in her life again.

All throughout that day, Violet spent time with her mother. They played games, they watched movies, they baked. Everything they had missed out on in those three years. At the end of the day, Violet showed her mother her scars, the ones on her back and then the ones that were self-afflicted. Tears welt up in her mother's eyes and she held her daughter close. Similar tears ran down Violet's face as she realized how much she missed her mother. Her mother whispered in her ear, telling her earnestly that she loved her and continued to hug her for a little while.

The next day, she was gone.

The house was completely empty.

Violet awoke to an abandoned house. All her mother's belongings were missing as well.

The scared girl ran through all the rooms in the house, crying and screaming for her mother to show herself. Even after an hour, no reply graced her ears. Violet collapsed into a pile on the floor, begging her mother to come back amongst repeated apologies.

She was alone, inside her mind; much like how Charlie was when Wonka had passed.

Violet told him that she ran away after that, running from all the memories inside the house. She's been running ever since.

The look in Charlie's eyes bored into Violet's soul. An awkward silence fell over the two. The soft sound of silent sobbing received Charlie's attention. He looked at her. She looked at him, begging him to tell her something. Something that would make her feel better. Tell her that he won't leave. Tell her that she wasn't alone anymore. Tell her it wasn't her fault. Tell her that there is nothing wrong with her. When Charlie couldn't think of anything to say, Violet dove into him, clutching his torso tightly. Charlie stroked her hair steadily and listened to her hiccups slowly decrease in size and frequency.

"Better?" He asked, evenly. She made a noise in the back of her throat, not ready to speak yet but wanting to let Charlie know that she wanted to hold on a bit longer. Charlie chuckled a little, being reminded of a grade schooler grasping onto their mother for dear life on the first day of school. A question popped up in the back of his mind. Before he could determine whether or not to ask in such a tender moment, the words escaped his lips.

"How did you get the scars on your back?" Immediately after, the oblivious man mentally slapped himself for asking such an insensitive question in such a sensitive moment. A light chuckle emitted from the girl in his arms. She looked up at him, glossy sheet of hormones still dancing on the edge of her seeing tools. Violet smiled, looking more pained than amused.

"They had to get the juice out somehow."

Charlie's heart plummeted as images of giant tubes covered in red and blue, and bloodied saws came to his mind. That's what they were for, he thought forlornly. His hand moved to grasp her shoulders and he looked down to face her, a million thoughts running through his mind and a million emotions crossed his face.

"Are you okay?" He asked seriously. "and don't give me any 'I'm fine' bullshit. Because I wouldn't be fine with it, so that means your not allowed to either." Charlie said in a low voice, dangerously close to a growl.

At first, she merely looked up in surprise, but soon after and light smile graced her purple lips, making Charlie's heart stop. "I wasn't before, but I am now."

Charlie stopped in front of the grave, twiddling with the last rose in his hand. With his other hand, he pulled out the pistol that had been with him this entire journey. He admired the craftsmanship and the detail put into the lethal device. He, curiously, looked down the barrel to see utter blackness with a glint of copper from the bullet. Charlie's mind wandered while looking death straight in the eye.

Charlie was rummaging through Mr. Wonka's old room. Before he simply could not have entered the room without having rage and depression take hold of his breath, seceding his rational thought from his normally level-headed nature, leaving only the color red. He supposed correctly that after time and with Violet here, he'd be able to do what he needed to do.

The shaking, emerald-eyed man had already cleaned out his drawers and was moving on to the closet, only to trip over a shoe box that had been hidden behind one of the drawers. Upon first discovering it, Charlie disregarded it as Wonka had been one to misplace things in the strangest of places. But, after dislocating the top of the box with his foot, he took interest.

It was full of tapes, pre-recorded tapes to be put in a tape player. To Charlie, the box was incredibly strange, he read the labels on the tapes. 'Experiment1', 'Cure', 'Blood', and more question-irking names. However, the one that struck Charlie the most was the one on the top, unlabeled.

He called out to Violet, telling her that he will be in the TV room. When he received no reply, he deduced that she was sleeping. A new habit took Violet in as she began to sleep and sleep more during the day. Charlie found it curious but harmless.

Playing the tape in a vintage tape player, which had taken Charlie forever to find, the heir discovered that his previous mentor was recording an experiment. Willy talked quickly and sharply.

"8 hours and twenty minutes, past mid-day. Test subject 87 has not taken any of the previous attempts at cures and is showing signs of recovery." After a long pause, he continued to recount his findings. "However, there is a substantial amount of bruising of a black discoloration. The subject appears to not notice or feel these injuries, perhaps due to the resistance of nerve sensors and epidermal layers provided by the experiment in the first place."

Charlie didn't understand most of what his friend was saying but supposed that the subject of the test had black bruises but couldn't feel them, and it was because of the experiment he performed.

"87 also has been prone to sleep these last 72 hours. Often falling asleep while performing the most mediocre of tasks. Narcolepsy may be due to the body trying to repair damage to the body and brain." Another long pause occurred and when Wonka's voice returned to Charlie's ears, it sounded worried. "Why has he fallen? Is he awake? Try to wake him up! I don't know, he just collapsed! W-what is that purple liquid?"

Charlie was taken by surprise as the urgency in Mr. Wonka's voice, normally his elder remained calm, no matter what the circumstances. Charlie's whizzing thoughts ceased when the voice returned, sounding shaky and aghast.

"The subject is dead. Number 87 to test the Three course gum perished due to multiple hemorrhages all throughout the body, exposing the remnants of the juice in their system to blood, decomposing their muscles and skin after…5,632 days. 15 years, 5 months, 13 hours and 12 minutes."

The winner of the factory stood, frozen. His body refused to move, but that didn't matter much because his brain refused also to correctly process the information. Mr. Wonka's tone went from uneasy to shaky to horrified.

"What have I done?!" The sound of his voice was cut off by shuffling papers and a click. Signifying the end of the tape. Charlie looked at the time stamp of the tape and shivering at the date on the said object. August 25 at 8:23 pm. The day he died.

Suddenly something clicked in Charlie's brain. Three course gum, black bruises, sleeping a lot.

15 years, 5 months, 13 hours, and 12 minutes

Charlie bolted, dislodging the tape player from its upright position, resulting in it falling to the floor. But by the time the device hit the floor, he could not hear it. All he could hear was the frantic pounding of his heart. He pleaded over and over again in his mind for her to still be okay, for her to be just sleeping out of exhaustion and not to slip out of this mortal coil. He slid into the room he believed her to be laying in to find her crouching in a corner, head turned upward and a frightening amount of bruises all over her body.

Blood dyed purple leaked from the bruises and her breathing was rapid and shallow. Violet did not seem to see Charlie enter the room and therefore wasn't able to acknowledge his questions which were distorted and fuzzy in her ears. She couldn't move, shooting pains throughout her entire being prevented her from standing, or moving her head; even opening her eyes hurt, so they remained closed.

Charlie thundered over to her, grabbing her shoulders, desperately shouting for her to wake up. Violet went numb, her eyes fluttered open but squeezed them tightly closed at the terrible pounding inside her mind.

Once he knew that she was still alive, Charlie scooped her up in his arms. Terrified to find just how much lighter she was.

From this point on, the world was a silent movie. Charlie barged into hospital after hospital, begging for help. Pleading to help save the fleeting life incased in his arms. Yet, each and every doctor refused to help. She was blue. She might be radioactive. If she is that cold then she is already dead. It's a monster. So, he ran, he ran so far away. Charlie fell to his knees. The voices rang in Charlie's head as tears helplessly ran down his face. He screamed.

Violet became aware of a wetness on her forehead and opened her eyes, forgetting to feel the pain. She looked to see a blurry Charlie sobbing and screaming. Confused, she attempted to speak, to comfort him but found that she was not able too. So, she stared at him, her eyelids becoming heavier and heavier.

When Charlie finally took notice of Violet's waking, her lids were already half closed. A small smile of relief came to his face, which was quickly erased when he saw large drops of blood begin to leak from her eyes. His stomach did a summersault and he was struck with more depression when he read the words on her lips. She had been mouthing to him ever since she had woken up.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

The last sparkle retreated from her eyes and she went limp. Becoming colder and colder.

Charlie squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his hold on the dead girl in his arms. Wake up, he told himself. This is just a dream. Just a dream. A dream inside of his mind. Inside.

Inside the bullet chamber, Charlie could see life and death. He dropped the blue rose in his hand. Unnaturally beautiful were the perfect two words for Violet.

Charlie took the gun away from his eye, both of which were dull with grief and pain. He positioned the pistol at his temple and took one more breath.

Death is such a fickle thing, inside your mind.


End file.
